


Wounds Heal

by Mighty_Ant



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon), Green Eggs and Ham - Dr. Seuss
Genre: Established Relationship, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Injuries, Sam’s terrible childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_Ant/pseuds/Mighty_Ant
Summary: Learning about Sam's past is never a good experience for either of them.
Relationships: Guy Am I & Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham), Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 243





	Wounds Heal

There’s a patch of fur that sometimes rests unevenly on Sam’s chest. 

Guy’s noticed it before but never given it much thought. Not until now, that is, with both of them relaxing in bed after a long day of inventions blowing up in his face and Sam’s long hours of community service. They’re snuzzled close and Guy’s hand is on Sam’s chest, just resting there at first, rising and falling with Sam’s breath as he chatters on about his day and  _ did you know, Guy, watching paint dry really is as bad as you said it was, but I guess if it’s clears my record it’ll be worth it, right?  _

Half asleep, Guy’s replies are little more than hums and grunts, not that Sam minds. Absently, he begins to run his fingers through the fur on Sam’s chest, his movements hazy and distant. He’s even too tired to process the way Sam’s breath stutters in his chest at Guy’s ministrations, and Sam soldiers on with his story regardless. 

It’s not until Guy finds something that doesn’t belong that he wakes up fully. Where Sam’s fur will sometimes hang unevenly, his hand encounters a strange resistance. Raised, puckered skin cutting across Sam’s chest in a short, diagonal line, and Guy’s searching fingers follow it up and down, tracing a six zinch span. 

Sam has gone very still and silent beneath his hand. 

Very awake now, Guy says, “Sam, how...how did you get this scar?”

“Pfft,” Sam says, waving a flippant hand. “What scar?”

“If that was your best attempt at avoiding the question, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it,” Guy replies, keeping his tone light. He keeps his hand on Sam’s chest, once more just resting atop his fur. 

“Oh,  _ that _ scar!” Sam exclaims unconvincingly. “I got that scar  _ ages  _ ago, I can’t even remember how. I mean, I’ve lived a very active life y’know!”

Guy props himself up on his elbow. “Sam,” he says, voice encouraging and low, “if you got hurt doing something, well, illegal, I won’t be upset.”

Sam falls quiet. Guy’s hand on his chest rises and falls five times before he quietly says, “No. No, it’s just...silly.” 

“You’ve said that before. It wasn’t true then, either,” Guy replies. 

“Fine,” Sam mutters, not looking away from the ceiling, “it’s dumb, then.”

Guy lays back down, so Sam won’t feel as though he’s being loomed over. He folds his free arm under his head and watches the play of emotions across Sam’s face; sadness and embarrassment and grief that always surface when he talks about his past, preceding an attempt to save face. 

“Before I ran away from my first orphanage I got it in my head that I wanted a pet,” Sam begins without preamble, startling Guy with the onslaught of information. 

He holds his tongue when the urge to blurt, First  _ orphanage?  _ and  _ Ran away?  _ nearly overwhelm him. Questions for another day, he knows.

“I decided I wanted a chickaraffe,” Sam continues, raising his hands to cradle the one Guy still has on his chest. “I didn’t know much about them back then either. So nine year old me just set out into the woods behind the orphanage and hoped I’d find one.” He chuckled humorlessly. “You know, giroosters look a lot like chickaraffes.”

“Oh, Sam,” Guy murmurs. 

“Yup,” Sam replies. “I just ran up and hugged the first one I saw. I thought I’d finally found someone who wouldn’t leave me. All I did was freak it out, though. And I don’t know if you know, but giroosters have got some pretty wicked talons on them.”

Guy thinks of E.B., captured in the rain, with only him for help. He thinks of Sam in her place, even younger, and utterly alone. 

“How did you get away?” he asks quietly. 

“Oh, I think my screaming scared it off,” Sam says, laughing. “I didn’t even realize it got me until I was sneaking back into the orphanage and one of the kids saw me and started screaming and then _ I _ started screaming again too, there was a lot of screaming all around actually —”

Sam trails off as Guy’s arm comes around to tug him close, drawing him against Guy’s chest. He goes without question, winding his arms around Guy’s waist as Guy’s hands settle on his shoulders and the back of his head. This is an embrace they’ve shared dozens of times, and Guy’s movements are smooth and seamless where they were once stilted and awkward. But there’s still something stiff about him now, something Guy is holding back. 

Sam tilts his head back to look at him, but Guy is staring resolutely at the wall. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” Guy finally says, when the churning panic in his mind has died down enough for words to form. He knows it’s pointless to freak out over the most recent addition to the tragedy that is Sam’s life story, but he can stop as easily as he can stop drawing breath. There was nobody worrying about Sam I-Am until now, and Guy plans to make up for lost time. 

Sam tucks his head back under Guy’s chin and presses a brief kiss against his throat. 

“Eh, it all worked out okay,” Sam says, which is surely a massive oversimplification, but Guy decides it’s not worth fighting him on it. “Besides, if I didn’t know about giroosters, I never would’ve been able to trick Snerz!”

Guy chuckles hoarsely. “I guess so,” he admits. 

But he hugs Sam a little tighter anyway, and pretends that he can protect him from the rest of the world for just a little bit longer. 


End file.
